Between treatment protocols. Exhausted. Not working out. A time of deep uncertainty.<\/p>\n One brief shining: A trigger finger locked. Life hinging on unproven chemicals, tests, blood draws. A sore right shoulder. Love of friends and family. Shadow. Unavoidable mortality.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Underlayments. Love. Joseph and Seoah. Ruth and Gabe. Mary and Mark and Diane. Korea to Melbourne to Saudi Arabia. Kate across the threshold. Knowing and seeing each other anyhow.<\/p>\n The love of old friends and new. Ancient Brothers. CBE.<\/p>\n Feeling connected in a Dog’s kisses. Coffee in the morning. The Shema.<\/p>\n So that. When cancer makes an aggressive move, I want to push back, get into a clinical trial. So that. When exercise falls away, my tennis shoes go back on.<\/p>\n And yet. Sometimes. I sit back in my chair. Think. Oh, come on. Enough. May I ride it all out from the comfort of this recliner? Surrender. Wait. For a miracle. For a finish.<\/p>\n Not the brave face. Nor a frightened one. Weary.<\/p>\n I do not want to scare those who love me. No. Yet I do not want to be dishonest either. This is not easy.<\/p>\n Not most of the day. When soreness or shortness of breath hits. Then. Pain suggests: a sick man who a moment ago was in his forties, eager. Whap.<\/p>\n Underlayments. I lean into love, buoyed up by Joe’s voice, by Tara singing happy birthday. By the regard in which I hold myself.<\/p>\n Underlayments. Remember. Shadow’s waggly tail. Gabe’s new poem. Superior Wolf’s second draft.<\/p>\n Consolation. More to do. Rejuvenation.<\/p>\n Not dead yet.<\/p>\n Knowing. Deep. This day, this singular unrepeatable day. All I’ve got. Ever. And this day, right now, hands on the keyboard. Shadow sleeping nearby. Morning darkness not dispelled. I am fully alive. Laying down breadcrumbs.<\/p>\n Underlayments. How to reconcile. Weariness and excitement. Pain and joy. Not easy. Not impossible. Most often through writing. Talking it out. Diane and her book club. Tom and a new book. Listening.<\/p>\n Realizing words. These words spilled in a certain order. Saying, hello out there, hello.<\/p>\n My one strong link to my journalist father. A need to express myself. Clearly. Often. Yes, a need. Not a want. That peculiar inside-out move of the artist: exposing the inner journey so others know they are not alone.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Imbolc and the Moon of Deep Friendship Monday gratefuls: Robin. Shadow the bandageless. Audrey, winning at regionals. Sports. Joe, the three letter guy. ICE. Minnesota. Rene Good. Alex Pretti. Say their names. Sparks of Joy and Awe:\u00a0 Actinium Week Kavannah:\u00a0 \u00a0Bitachon. Confidence.\u00a0 \u00a0 \u00a0I need to focus on confidence this week. Important decisions for … Continue reading A Strong Link<\/span> ![\"\"](\"http:\/\/www.ancientrails.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2022\/05\/seven-of-arrows-wildwood.png\")
<\/a>Tarot: Seven of Arrows, Insecurity<\/p>\n